Nuthouse
by classiccassie
Summary: As if the last few books never happened. No Dylan. A 28 year old Max is sent to a Psych Hospital because of her suicidal and selfharm tendancies. R&R?
1. Chapter 1: Different

_**Nuthouse - A Maximum Ride Fanfiction**_

"I don't know where to begin.

The world had been saved. My flock was still together in one piece. Something was different, though. Everyone else seemed happy. Life was simpler now. No bad guys to fight, no Erasers trying to kill us. Nudge even got her wings removed. To cover the scar, she got a tattoo of wings on her back. Even I had to admit, it was beautiful. But something was different.

I didn't feel the...peace. The ease. The rest. I felt nervous. When I was home alone, I still checked my corners. It couldn't be this easy, and not that it wasn't hard to get here, just...something was different.

Fang and I, well, we decided to settle down eventually I guess. It wasn't like I could ever tell him no, especially when he got down on his knee and proposed. Then we had Maddie, and life seemed better. Then the flu hit and she passed and I guess they say I got that PTSD shit. Started hurting myself."

The woman leaned back in her chair. I studied her for a minute, and she seemed to do the same with me. She truly was gorgeous, but depression affects all of us. She had long, flowing blonde hair, and worry lines that added contrast to her plump lips. The scars on her face weren't selfharm scars. If I could bring myself to believe what I was told by the Feds, they were from some weird hybrid human things that were created in a lab. I didn't want to believe it, but I had to. That was a part of this job - the therapist of the crazy.

Her eyes searched the room. They were brown, cautious, and alert. Down on the unit, they told me to watch her closely, as she liked to scratch her healing scabs. They wouldn't let her wear long sleeves, only clear bandages on her arms where the cuts were the worst.

I looked at her, and asked, "Why?"

She looked up, startled. "What do you mean, why? I lost my child, my husband left me...I had every reason to want to die."

"No, why did you try to cut off your wings?" Her face reddened.

"Well- I guess I don't know. It just kind of happened." I leaned back in my chair.

"In my 15 years in therapy, I've learned nothing 'kind of just happens'." She made a face.

"In my 28 years alive, I've learned a lot of things 'kind of just happen'." She sighed. "Aren't you supposed to believe what I say? Take notes or something?" I chuckled.

"Only when you're telling the truth. And I don't like taking notes. I feel as if I remember what my patients say better if I actually pay attention to them." She frowned but relaxed a little bit. I glanced at the clock out of habit. "Our hour is up. I'll talk to you again tomorrow." She sighed and walked towards the door. "By the way...welcome to the nuthouse, Maximum."


	2. Chapter 2: People Are Strange

_**Chapter 2: People are Strange**_

**MAX POV**

"Welcome back, Max. How did therapy go?" I shrugged. The lady behind the desk sighed. Her name was Martha. She was in her late 60s if I could guess correctly. Three grandkids. "If you don't open up, the judge isn't going to let you get out."

Maybe that's what I wanted. To never leave this place.

"It's time for group!" A cheery, platinum blonde nurse said, and I sluggishly walked over the group area. It was just a room with chairs set in a circle around a table. Nothing special.

I walked to a seat and sat down. "That's my chair," a younger girl whispered, her age maybe about 19. "You're sitting in my chair." I looked at her. She fiddled with her thumbs and the second I met her gaze she looked down. "I can't sit anywhere else."

"Is your name on this chair somewhere?" I asked, frowning, the sarcasm flowing from my lips.

"No, but-" she started, and I intterupted.

"Then why the hell does it matter."

"Tina, why don't you sit by me?" the group leader, the blonde beach babe asked.

"Because she's sitting in my chair." I could sense her anxiety.

"I'll move, whatever." I muttered.

"No, you can have the chair, Max," Beach Babe said, "There are no assigned seats here."

"But it's my chair." The little fragile girl started to raise her voice.

My arms itched.

"Tina, just find another fucking chair, my God." someone else muttered.

"Language, Heather!" Beachy gasped, like she'd never heard a cuss word before in her life. "Tina, if you can't sit down we're going to have to send you to your room."

"I CAN'T. SHE'S IN MY CHAIR." Now she was yelling. Beachy whispered something into a walkietalkie.

"Ooooh, she's getting the booty juice ready." The girl sitting next to her said. Beachy rolled her eyes.

"Now, Tina, you have three options. One, sit down in another seat. Two, go to your room. Or three, get a shot of Benadryl. Which do you prefer?" Tina sank down to the floor.

"I will go to my room." She whispered after a minute of silence and left.

"Now! For group. We have a few people I've never met so I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Miss Taylor. Over there is Mr. Chris and Miss Martha. We will be your staff for this shift." She smiled. "Anyway, now we are going to have everyone introduce themselves to the group. Heather, would you like to go first? Just your first name, age, why you're here if you're willing to talk about it, and an interesting fact about you." Heather stood.

"My name is Heather. I'm 25. My father raped me every single day until I turned 22. On my birthday, he stopped. Because I killed him. Pleaded insansity, and that's why I'm here." She smiled. "An interesting fact about me is that I have no patience for bullshit." Miss Taylor rolled her eyes. The next girl stood.

"My name is George-Ann. I'm 23." She sighed and looked at Miss Taylor. "Do I really have to do this?" She nodded. "I'm here because I fucking want to be. That's what's interesting about me, bitches. I have no home go to when and if I leave."

"Maximum?" Miss Taylor asked. I slowly rose to my feet.

"Hi, I'm Max. I'm 28." I shifted on my feet. "I'm a human avian hybrid. I'm here because I lost everything. My husband, my daughter, my friends. I'm here because I tried to cut off my wings. With a butcher knife."

The room was silent for a few minutes. "Liz?"

I kind of tuned out the rest of the introductions, thinking about Madison. She was so beautiful. And even science, something I had relied on so heavily in the past, couldn't save her.

"Can I be excused?" I asked, intteruptting someone's speech. Miss Taylor frowned at me and nodded. "If you need to be." I went to my room and sat down at the desk. I got a piece of paper, and started writing.

_Ella,_

_I know we haven't talked in years. I'm sorry. I lost touch with you and Mom when I needed you guys the most. I thought I could do it without you guys and I now realize how wrong I was. I just wanted to apologize. For everything. Things didn't happen the way they should've and now I'm locked up here. If you talk to Fang...tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry he had to find me like that. Ella, I still love him. But goddammit, things are so hard. I'm going to go now, I know this is short but I will write more later. I love you. Be the trooper I couldn't be. Be strong._

_With love,_

_Max_


End file.
